


Jungle Fever

by Cupcakemolotov



Series: come alive [40]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Doctor!Caroline, Ex-Military!Klaus, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, No Smut, Violence, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 08:13:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14492673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cupcakemolotov/pseuds/Cupcakemolotov
Summary: With her stint at Doctors Without Borders nearly finished, Caroline is ready to return to her life in New York. But an attack from local guerilla fighters shows her that she’s made some pretty startling assumptions.





	Jungle Fever

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve taken probably more than one liberty with the DWB program, and even more liberties with human limitations. Oops?
> 
> Written for AU Week - All Human: The perennial fave! For any works where Klaus and Caroline are human. Celeb!AUs, Office!AUs, College!AUs… There’s always plenty to choose from!

“Alright there, Doc?”

For a moment, Caroline was certain she was hallucinating. The low rumble of a voice was a familiar one, but the British accent wasn’t. Blinking open aching eyes, she squinted in the low afternoon light, and realized she was being carried. Brows bunched together, she shifted, and immediately realized that was a mistake. The pain that radiated from her ankle seized her lungs, and she moaned low in her throat.

“Careful there,” the voice reverberated against her ear. “The ankle is the worst of it, but you've got a bump on your head and an assortment of bruising.”

Slowly, carefully, because he was right about the bruising, Caroline slowly tilted her head to squint at the man holding her so easily. The scruffy jaw and sardonic smile were familiar, but the razor sharp glint behind his eyes was not. Klaus Mikaelson. As far as she’d known, he was just another misplaced soul, if one who'd been hired for security. MSF had set up camp where there was little in the way of medical facilities, but it was considered the biggest village in the area.

The jungle was a dangerous place, but Klaus wasn't the first to end up wandering. Rough around the edges, leanly muscled, he'd never given off an air of kindness. So why was he carrying her?

His gaze narrowed with concern at her continued silence, and he studied her eyes, shoulders relaxing a fraction. “Your pupils look normal, but I can’t risk checking with a light just yet. You feel like you've got a concussion, love?”

What she had was a pounding headache. Squinting, she gripped his sweat-damp shirt carefully. “Since when do you speak English?”

A arch of his brow, the edge of his lips curling. “I never said I couldn't.”

She felt her lips part in disbelief, and Klaus’ smile widened. Dimples. He had dimples. It threw her, this new detail after weeks of him lingering on the edges of her work, glaring right back at his stupid face when he wasn't happy with her. Not that he’d bothered to tell her in English what his problem was, forcing her to parse her way through his rapid Spanish. Her years of French had helped her pick up Spanish, but she was far better at reading it than listening. Her grasp of the language could be best described as faltering, which had always seemed to amuse him. Klaus’ had never bothered to slow down for her. The ass. And now he was admitting he could speak English just fine?

Before she could work through a blistering comment, he started walking again. Klaus was careful, but it still jarred her aching limbs. Caroline ground her teeth, jaw jumping as she tried to ignore the pain. To distract herself, she glanced around. She blinked as she realized they were in the jungle, and that the acrid scent she kept catching was smoke. Cursing the injury that had clearly left her head ringing, she kept her voice low.

“What happened?”

Klaus didn't slow at her raspy words. “Loss of memory isn't a great sign, doc.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, winced. “Stop calling me that.”

Klaus ignored her request, tilted his head to look at her. “We've got less than a kilometer to go before we’ll be relatively safe. I can answer your questions then.”

She bit her lip, but nodded. Those intense eyes studied her for a moment longer, but he finally glanced away. Caroline did her best to relax. It couldn't be easy to carry her, but other than the sweat she could feel, the tensed muscles, he showed only the slightest strain on his face.

She rested her cheek on his shoulder, tried to reconcile what she knew of this man with her situation. They hadn't spoken much, with the perceived language barrier between them. Klaus had never given off the impression that he liked her, hadn't ever given the suggestion that he liked anything. She couldn't even really pinpoint when he'd started lingering in her presence, a silently barbed shadow that had been occasionally useful in hauling heavy equipment and glaring unhappy patients into silence.

Her cheeks turned momentarily warm as she realized that he'd perfectly understood the rude things she'd muttered under her breath. At her fellow doctors, the faulty equipment and at him. Caroline decided she wouldn't be embarrassed, because he'd deserved everything she'd said.

He was an ass. That he was occasionally a helpful ass didn't offset his attitude or his mannerisms with the other doctors. She'd been on the receiving end of his disapproval more than once, but she'd always brushed it aside as Klaus having a stick shoved up his ass. The implied language barrier had left her frustrated as he watched her struggle, waiting with an air of long suffering amusement as she thought through her sentences.

But even with his abrupt and needling presence, there had always been an intensity to Klaus that under any other circumstance would've been appealing. It didn't help her imagination that he was so pretty to look at. The long, lean line of his torso, tattooed and scarred and deliciously tanned, was far more appealing than any of the doctors she worked with on a daily basis. She'd had some particularly vivid dreams regarding that tattoo on his shoulder, had woken sweaty and aroused more than once due to imagining his hands.

It'd been two years since her broken engagement, nearly as long of a dry spell. But between her work and the language barrier, she'd always been far more frustrated than interested in doing anything about her inexplicable attraction. Klaus was a dick, but a hot one, and she'd been willing to let it stay at that. Delicious fuel for her fantasies.

Now, he was carrying her through the jungle.

She could just hear Bonnie laughing over the crackle of a cell phone. Her friends already thought she was crazy for doing this stint with Doctors Without Borders. She could only imagine how romantic they'd find everything. Her life was hardly a romance novel, and she sincerely doubted that stick-up-his-ass-Mikaelson thought of her as anything but another doctor.

She'd live with it.

Caroline didn't think she'd dozed, but the rhythm of his heartbeat and the easy motion of his body had lulled her enough that when Klaus spoke again, he startled her. “Alright, sweetheart. We've got limited options. Night is falling, which means we need to find shelter. Lucky for us, that's the easy part.”

Caroline tilted her head, studied him. “Easy how.”

Another small crease of his cheek, and a dimple was on full display. “Old habits die hard and I've a few bolt holes tucked here and there. There is enough food and water stashed to last a day, maybe two if we're careful. The nearest consulate is a week on foot, but you're not walking anywhere on that ankle.”

She grimaced, but agreed. “I need to get a feel for how bad the break is.”

“Swelling ain't pretty. Got a wrap, we can splint it once we've got clean light. If we're lucky, we’ll make it to a nearby village without hassle. I've got a favor or two to call in that should get us out of here.”

Caroline wasn't sure she was ready for the parts where they weren't lucky. “What's the hard part?”

Klaus lifted his gaze. She followed the trajectory and couldn't see anything but the heavy canopy. Dread filled her stomach, and she swiped her tongue over dry lips. “Let me guess. Shelter is up?”

“Afraid so. I've got a rope ladder, so you'll need to stay quiet while I climb up to drop it down. We got a pretty decent head start on anyone interested in tracking us, and any of the bigger predators are going to be wary of the fire.”

“How,” Caroline started, stopped when her voice wavered, tried again. “How am I supposed to...?”

“Our best bet is to piggyback you up, but there isn't going to be a good way to protect that ankle.”

Swallowing, she nodded. Uneasy as she was with heights, staying on the ground wasn't an option. Holding his gaze, she took a fortifying breath. “Let's do it.”

Slowly, Klaus lowered her to her feet and steadied her, until she’d enough balance to stand on her own. Then, with one last swift glance at her face, he started scaling the tree, using the heavy vines as an aid. Caroline watched him, eyes tracking the shift of muscles for a moment before she caught herself. Wincing, she glanced away, trying not to think about the strength he was displaying.

Being attracted to Klaus Mikaelson would only ever be a study in frustration, and she'd no intention of being caught in that net. She was almost done with her stint with the MSF, and she'd go back to trauma centers in New York City. Klaus had always struck her as someone who felt home here, where civilization was scarce. She wanted hot showers and long baths, ice cream, and her bed. She wanted to talk to her mom.

But first she had to survive this.

Caroline strained her ears, listening for anything that could be dangerous. Her fingers pressed tightly against the trunk she was leaning against, breath loud in her ears. All she could see was darkness, and her nerves pulled taunt at every shadow.

Her relief at the sound of rope slithering down the truck left her shaky. That relief was short lived as she saw what Klaus meant by rope ladder. “You must be joking.”

Klaus snorted as he reached the ground. “Afraid not, sweetheart. I need to get you settled and see if I can hide part of our trail. Buy us a little time to pick off anyone who might be hunting for you.”

Her mouth ran dry, stomach tightening. Hunting her. Why would someone be hunting her? She was a doctor. Klaus read her face, mouth softening. “It'll be okay, Caroline. Come on. No choice but up.”

She let him coax her onto his back. Face pressed into his neck, she tried not to think about the obviously handwoven ladder, or how high they were climbing. The jolt of her ankle with each step left her skin sweat-slick, breath uneven against his skin.

“You're not scared of heights, are you?” His tone was almost teasing, but she could hear the strain of carrying her weight.

Her nails bit into his chest as they swayed. “Terrified.”

“I won't drop you, Caroline.”

Caroline didn't know why his soft words assured her. The lean strength of him pressed so close against her, the rise and fall of his muscles. She closed her eyes and mentally mapped each movement, each shift and pull of his strong body.

The last heave upwards pulled a groan from Klaus, as she couldn’t help pull them onto the flat platform someone had carefully built. She squinted at their shelter as Klaus carefully set her down. It was crude and it was going to be a tight squeeze for both of them, but he'd fashioned a rough roof between two tight branches.

The angle would keep them from rolling off the tree, and would provide some shelter from any potential rain. There was a camouflage canvas bag tucked inside, and she figured it was waterproof. As a tree house, she'd been in worse.

“Let's get you settled.”

By the time Caroline was safely tucked up, she was shivering from the pain. To her surprise, Klaus pulled out not only a blanket, but a plastic water bottles. She sipped slowly, aware of the tax on her system, while Klaus dug a few more things out of the bag. Her nerves went tight again when a gun appeared, as well as flashlight and familiar, tasteless ration bars.

But he wasn't satisfied, hunting for a rattling bottle. Settling on his haunches, caught her gaze in the hazy light. “I've got limited antibiotics and narcotics, love.”

She blinked, squinted. “Where did you get those?”

“Here and there,” he said vaguely and she growled.

“Klaus Mikaelson, did you steal those? From my supplies?”

“Not yours,” he drawled. “You'd have noticed. Salvatore wasn't nearly as careful. It's a small stash, doc. Just enough for an emergency. That head injury bled and open wounds in the jungle are bad news. I've got enough pills to last maybe three days. Same with the pain meds.”

She held out her hand, knowing he was right about the antibiotics. “Save the pain pills.”

She thought his eyes narrowed, but it was hard to tell. “You sure?”

Caroline grimaced. “It'll be worse when we're moving.”

He studied her, but obliging shook out a dosage before turning back to his bag. Once he was sat sucked, he set down a bar next to her. The zipper was loud in the silence of their shelter, and he stood. The graceful unfurling of his body shouldn't have left her mouth dry.

“Eat,” Klaus ordered softly. “I’ll be back.”

She didn't ask what she was supposed to do if he didn't return. The answer wouldn't help her right then. Instead, she very carefully ate the food, tried not to let the throbbing of her injuries get to her. She only dared examine her foot when she'd finished eating, knowing she couldn't risk letting much more of the light disappear.

It was impossible to tell the extent of the damage without an x-Ray. The swelling made it difficult to be certain, but she was worried that she'd fractured both her tibia and fibula. There was no chance she'd be walking on a bimalleolar fracture. Eyes watering from the agony of testing the injury, she took shudders breath and wiped her eyes.

Gingerly, Caroline felt along the goose egg on her skull, bit down hard on her lip at the pain the radiated at her touch. Her headache did not improve and she squeezed her eyes shut as she confirmed that she'd broken skin. No wonder her hair felt disgusting, head injuries were bleeders. But feeling the injuries did nothing to jar her memory of how she'd gotten them.

What had happened? How did she end up with Klaus, of all people? Her injuries and the fire suggested something awful had happened, but they had evacuation procedures in place. Why hadn’t she used them?

Where was everyone else?

She rubbed her forehead, the headache burning behind her eyes. She wasn't going to get answers from her memory just then. She'd just have to trust Klaus to be forthcoming and explain this mess.

There was a sudden noise below her. Caroline gripped the flashlight tightly, and only relaxed as familiar curls popped over the edge. Klaus smiled slowly as he took in her death grip. “Going to bludgeon me to death?”

“Probably,” Caroline responded. “My mom was a cop, flashlights hurt if used properly. Although, realistically, it'd be the fall that’d kill you.”

She couldn't quite make out his face, true dark nearly upon them, but the glint of teeth she caught.

“I like a little blood thirsty. How's the ankle?”

“Fractured,” she admitted, ignoring the flutter in her stomach at the little rumble in his voice at the world like. “I still can't remember what happened.”

Klaus watched her in the rapidly fading light, sipping his water ration as carefully as she had. “The MSF ordered an evacuation. Two days ago.”

Caroline shook her head, uncaring that he couldn't really see. “What? I remember yesterday just fine. We weren't told…”

“Salvatore is an arrogant fool. He didn't believe the insurgent threat was a real concern until hours before they arrived. Your trucks were pulling out as they hit the village.”

She tried to imagine the scenario he was describing, couldn't quite manage it. Damon Salvatore was an arrogant fool, but he wouldn't be so reckless with their lives, would he? Her throat closed and speaking was hard.

“The others?”

“Salvatore and few others got clear, but your truck wasn't so lucky. I got you out of the rubble, but odds are we were seen. If they think they can hold you hostage, for money or drugs, they’ll hunt us.”

Caroline took a slow breath to push back the burning behind her eyes. “Where there other survivors?”

“Not my concern.”

Her next inhale was sharp, fingers digging into her pants. “Klaus there could be people who are hurt.”

He was suddenly so close, she could feel his breath. Her eyes were still adjusting, so reading Klaus’ face was impossible but she could feel him. The tension in his bones and muscle.

“Your truck was slow, because you were trying to evacuate too many people,” his words were tight, voice dark. “You should've been long gone. But when have you ever listened to reason when people are in danger? I'll get you home, doc, but don't expect me to care about the others.”

Caroline reached out with hesitant fingertips, found the roughness of his cheek. Klaus went still beneath her questioning fingertips. “Who are you?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“I let you put me in a tree,” Caroline murmured. “I haven’t climbed a single branch since Tyler Lockwood pushed me out of one when I was twelve. I broke my arm and two ribs. I detest trees.”

Warm, calloused fingers pressed against the hand still pressed against his jaw. “Is that why you're a doctor?”

“Nope,” she said lightly, unwilling to talk about her mom just yet. But the increase in her pulse, the way her skin prickled at his touch, told her that she might be willing to tell him someday. If they made it out of here. She knew she needed to be careful, life and death situations could lead to something rash, but this livewire between them wasn't new.

“I used to be military,” Klaus said finally, at her continued silence. “Left, sold my services for a few years. Tried to get myself killed till a buddy straightened me out. Now I'm here.”

There was a weight to that here. Did he mean this country or this jungle or here, with her? The jungle alive and noisy around her, but her only focus was this man. The dark left her strangely brave, and she licked her lips before speaking.

“I don't understand why you bothered to save me?” She hesitated, then tried for a touch of levity. “Particularly after I called you an arrogant ass with a god complex. I'm also not going to apologize for that, just so you know.”

The silence was long, but he never moved, thumb a caress against her wrist.

“I like your bite,” his voice was soft, a rough slid against her skin. “You cared about those people, doc. Those insurgents didn't care about how strong your hands are under the pressure of your job, or the tightness of your jaw when you couldn't save everyone. They'd have seen you as an object to use. Because of Salvatore’s personal arrogance.”

Her pulse sped up, rabbiting in her throat. There was no way he didn't notice, not with his thumb pressed against her veins. Her voice was whisper soft for her next question.

“Then why pretend to not understand me?”

A soft laugh that brushed over her lips like a caress. “You're glorious when riled. A temptation. If you knew I’d understood you, I was afraid I'd let you in too far. I'm not a good man, Caroline. I don't think that'll change, and you're like sunshine. I want to covet your laugh, taste your smiles and see just how long it takes to cool your temper with my tongue.”

She bit her lip hard, to stop her moan, but she couldn't control her shiver. “What changed?”

“Nothing,” he admitted. “Except I saw you lying in that rubble, and realized the extent I'd let you in, anyway.”

Caroline let her fingers feather across his jaw, scruff soft against her fingertips. “Our timing is awful. And I’m still pissed about the you lying to me about speaking English. Omission is a lie, and lying pisses me off.”

She felt his lips curve, and scowled. He must have sensed her irritation, because he leaned into her hand. His words were a rumbling promise that left her skin prickling.

“I'll make it up to you.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” Caroline asked, voice husky. “Once we get out of this jungle, we’ll probably never see each other again.”

“I suppose we’ll have to see how it goes,” he deflected easily, fingers caressing her skin a moment before his hand dropped away. “Now, if you've still got that flashlight, I think we can risk the light to stabilize your ankle. Are you sure you don't want to take the edge off, doc?”

She grimaced, turning the light on, directing it away from their sensitive eyes. “Best to save them.”

Klaus looked unhappy, jaw tight, but he took her at her word. He'd procured a sturdy branch from somewhere, set about binding and splinting her foot with a mercifully quick efficiency. Her jaw ached, with the force of holding in her cries, and the escaped tears were gritty on her cheeks. She didn't protest when he moved her beneath the crude roof, tucking her into the blanket. A moment later, and he'd wolfed down his ration, settling next to her. The flashlight went out, leaving her only with the feel of Klaus in the dark.

She felt strangely safe.

“You know,” Klaus teased softly in the darkness, fingers settling against her hip as he held her against him. “Orgasms do wonder for pain or so I've heard.”

She snorted, wiggling closer, face pressing into his chest. Her words were muffled, but firm. “There is no amount of hand sanitizer that could convince me to let you touch me right now.”

Klaus shook with silent laughter, and his fingers squeezed her hip. “Later, then. I'll get you out of this mess, Caroline. I promise.”

Caroline nodded. Allowed herself to relax, as she leaned against him. She wouldn't tell him just then, that she'd dreamed of his hands and sardonic tongue, but definitely later. And maybe she'd even admit the details to one or two of those fantasies of hers.

If the way her skin had prickled at just his gaze on her skin, she was certain it'd be absolutely worth it.

 

 

 


End file.
